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My Grandmother's People?Culturally, I find myself at a loss in America, being such a mutt. Up in the Northeast where my grandmother is from, exist the whitest Native Americans on earth, lol..... Maybe it's because they had much longer than the Western Natives to mix with the mostly white folks who landed here. My grandmother heard so little about her mixed ancestry- her father's side had Abenaki mixed in, but her mother's side was most probably Mohawk- she doesn't even know, because her mother wouldn't talk about it. My gramma grew up a little French Canadian girl, with jet black hair and aunts by marriage who would pour holy water on her and not let her play with her cousins, probably having to do with her mother- at least that's the story. She is disconnected from her mother's side- she was taken to a ceremony as a baby where she received some shoes- that's all she really knows about it- being part Native wasn't exactly seen as a positive thing at the time. Anyhow, misunderstood, marginalized...... the aftermath of losing a whole part of one's ancestral culture is so disconnecting. I want to give her answers. I want her to know that I care about it for her, that I understand that it's not something to blow off or brush aside as trivial, like other members of the family have, as if "Indian Blood" is a joke somehow. I have been trying to do some research into it for her and stumbled across this- It's just some strange school project some guy spliced together this video from the Smithsonian....and maybe it will seem hokey to some of you- but it helps me feel less frustrated somehow. Even the city is Mohawk country.... Fucking America.
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I love John Trudell!
I could listen to his voice all day long. This subject is very interesting to me. You honor your grandmother and yourself in this pursuit. I wish you much joy and gathered wisdom on this journey.
The heart has its reasons whereof Reason knows nothing.
- Blaise Pascal
An old photo of my gramma.
It's kinda bleached out by time and all, and it looks like her head is floating because of her shirt.....but isn't she beautiful? How awful she had to deal with mental Catholic French relatives throwing holy water on her. Screw them.
Lovely
she is a beauty.
The heart has its reasons whereof Reason knows nothing.
- Blaise Pascal
Thanks- I'm really going to try to get her some answers-
I need to call her. I think about her a lot- I've had such family drama this past year, I get wary that my grandmothers (who are the only ones that I speak to apart from my brother) will get involved that I really haven't been in touch as much lately. I know they both love me very much- and I can't really see one of them not respecting my wish to not talk about my immediate family if I don't want to- so I really shouldn't fear it keeping me from being the beloved granddaughter that I am and grew up being. Anyhow, thanks for the comments!
Well whaddaya know? I found something that makes sense!
http://www.enotalone.com/article/5127.html
"As the infant grows, the Omaha perform another ritual that formally introduces her to the tribe and recognizes her as a member. This rite, which is called Turning the Child, takes place in the spring after the first thunders have come. It includes all children who are nearly ready to walk alone. The barefoot child stands on a symbolic stone; as the family and other tribal members sing prayers and songs, they put new moccasins, blessed with sacred herbs, on her feet and help her take four steps. Symbolically she has been "sent into the midst of the winds," commemorating that she has made it through infancy and into childhood. Her baby name is thrown away, and a new name is announced to all of nature and to the crowd of people who have gathered for the occasion.
The new moccasins the child receives at the Turning the Child ritual have a small hole cut into one of the soles. According to the Omaha physician La Fleshe, this is a way of preventing the child's death: If a messenger from the spirit world comes to snatch the baby, the child can say, "I cannot go on a journey because my moccasins are worn out."
Traditionally, the Abenaki and certain other Eastern tribes also leave a tiny hole in the moccasins they fashion for each young child, but its purpose is different. If a messenger from the spirit world comes to invite the child back over, this symbolic hole allows the tiny spirit to slip out of the body if it so desires. Among these peoples, there has always been an implicit understanding that if a child's spirit does not wish to remain on earth, it should be blessed and allowed to depart."
Maybe I should concentrate less on the names in my ancestry search (all I have are the French ones, not the Native ones) and concentrate more on the parts that my grandmother knows of the traditions- aka, being given moccasins when she was a year old in the Spring, going to visit the "people across the lake", the way that she told me my birthmarks meant good luck, stuff like that. Her mother may not have talked about her family because she didn't want my grandmother to have to deal with the stigma, but she DID pass on some clues. Maybe I just haven't been going about this in the right way. If I have a chance I'd love to go the Mohawk reservation in NY which is right next to the place her mother's family lived- maybe I could talk to some people and get some more answers. My grandmother has told me that she would like to know more before she dies. Any other mamas out there who have looked into Native American ancestry? It's possible her grandmother came from Missouri- a lady on geneology.com sent me some family photos I have no idea why her tree had (her husband is some cousin I guess) and she lives out in Oklahoma- it's all so confusing. My gramma said that her mother's mother may have come from somewhere else- she said she remembers relatives teasing her and calling her family "horse-thieves". She worked as a maid for this french guy before he "made it legal" and they got married- she already had 4 kids by then, and at least two of them were from some guy in the village nicknamed "Injun Joe"??? My grandmother said she only heard her aunts whispering about it. Talk about stigma.
I'm lucky
in that my mother's family has their native papers, and I'm in contact with some of my native family. My maternal grandfather, who is still alive, is half-blood (native & black) and was raised mostly with his native mother and her people on a reservation in Oklahoma before moving to North Carolina where he met my grandmother (black). My mother and her siblings had enough native blood to get native papers filed but after my grandparents divorced, my grandfather, who was an alcoholic and gambler, pretty much ditched them. Since he is my only living gradnparent I've been curious to finally meet him and perhaps so my mom could see him (she hasn't seen him in nearly 60 years) but so far we haven't been able to get it together. I have however talked with some cousins and great-aunts, we've exchanged photos and info back and forth. They say I favor my grandfather's mother a lot but I think that's just all my long black hair.
My father's people have very little information about my native relatives on that side of the family. It's a lot like your situation...it's hard to know where to even start.